Sunday, September 18, 2011

No, actually I'm not "showing" yet...I'm just fucking hungry, okay?!?!

Yeah, that's right, I want to eat....again.  And 30 minutes after that, I will want to eat again, so let's just park it at the nearest Golden Corral and spend the day alright?!? 

Honestly, I haven't gained much weight since I've been eating for 2, probably because I have been forced to quit drinking for 4.  Beer has a lot of empty calories you know.  But I am constantly hungry, it's intense.  If I don't get food within a reasonable amount of time, I will cut out the nearest person's kneecaps with a bread knife just to prove a God Damned point. 

This is a maternity shirt, and I need it.
The thing that sucks is I don't look pregnant, I just look like I've been hitting the mashed potatoes a little hard (which I have).  I feel like making myself a shirt that says, "No really, I can eat all these carbs, It's okay, I'm pregnant." That way I people would just give me that, "Ohhhh" look and not the "Holy shit, look at that bitch stuffing her face" look while shielding their child's view.

Also, I have found that eating so much junk, combined with "relaxed digestive system" due to hormones, causes gas.  No, wait "gas" is too nice of a word for it.  My farts would make a trucker blush and have started peeling paint in the more trafficked rooms, like, the kitchen.

But there are a lot of bonuses about being pregnant.  People let me cut in line for the bathroom, I get to fix my plate first, and even complete strangers offer to buy me food when I look hungry (which is all the time).  All I have to do is look longingly at a hotdog vender while rubbing my food baby bump and random people will rush over to get me something.  It's wonderful!  Also, I get to go to bed early and sleep in late and nobody says I'm being lazy.  After all, I'm growing brains and legs and shit, it's hard work! 

So anywho, here is a pic of Baby Dinosaur.  This is my first sonogram when I was about 10 weeks.  I'm 15 weeks now, so I'm sure "he" has his dragon tail and spiky teeth by now.

Head on the left, the little dots are arms and body is on the right with legs curled up in front.

I can't wait until I can feel "her" move around and as I'm typing that I feel like I will someday regret saying that...

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Lies My Dad Told Me

I consider myself a relatively intelligent person.  I get it from my parents; they are both extremely intelligent too. (Wonder what happened with my brother?)  One of the curses of intelligent people is that we are curious about things.  All things, everywhere.  We eagerly seek out knowledge and soak it up like sponges. How do we seek it? With questions, that's how.  Lots and lots of questions, which sometimes don't exactly have direct answers.

I would imagine this can become quite bothersome for parents of young, intelligent children. I mean, you want them to be curious, you want them to ask questions, just not so many God-Damned weird ass questions that you have no answers to.  I suppose this is why my dad just started making up random shit to tell me.  I’m sure he got bored with giving me real answers and decided to have a little fun with me.  Here are two examples:

Me: Dad, what happens if you get a piece of metal stuck in your eye?

Dad: I would have to take you to the doctor and he would use a big magnet to get it out.

Me: What would happen if I got a piece of rock stuck in my eye?  You can’t get that with a magnet…

Dad: The doctor would have to pop your eyeball out of its socket, wash it off with water, and put it back in.

This is a specially designed "Eyeball Holder" for washing.

Me: Dad, why does it feel weird when I put my finger in my belly button?

Dad: Because that’s where you got your food when you were in Mommy’s belly.

Me:  ???.....But why does it FEEL weird?

Dad: Because it’s still attached to your insides and if you pick at it too much it will come undone and all your guts will fall out and you will die.

To this day, it makes me nauseous if someone touches my bellybutton.

Cute, right? Sure...the problem is he never told me those things weren’t true and let me keep on believing them until I brought up these “facts” in 7th grade only to be completely humiliated in front of my entire science class.  As you may know, 7th grade was a particularly hard year for me.  

At least now I am at an age where I have outgrown believing all my dad’s little “falsehoods.”  Or so I thought.  

The other day Big Dinosaur and I were coming home from a friends house and he purposely missed the little paint stripes in the road.  This conversation followed:

Me:  Joe!  You’re supposed to run over those!  It’s how the highway department tests different kinds of paint to see which ones stay longest.

Joe:  What?!

Me:  You know, those paint stripes you just drove around.

Joe:  Those are called Rumble Strips and they are to let you know a corner is coming…  I knew the corner was coming so I didn’t run over the strips.  What the hell are you talking about?

Me: It’s not a paint test?

Joe: No.

Me: ......Damnit!

 Things like this make me wonder....what kind of bullshit stories will I tell my kids?  Well, I will get to find out before too long, because Big Dinosaur and I are expecting a Baby Dinosaur around March 9th and we can't be more excited!  Actually, instead of a Baby Dinosaur, we are secretly hoping for a pony.  *Fingers Crossed*